The Mourning After
by i'mnotcrazy82
Summary: Lucas has broken up with Cuddy. Has House been given one more chance, or is it really over. HUDDY Now Complete.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N-**_

_**Well, my muse is at it again. I think this one'll be pretty short. Anyway, it's totally A/U after Wilson. I hope you like it.**_

_**As usual, DS owns House; I own nothing but some battered notebooks and empty mechanical pencils, but I than him for sharing his toys!**_

_**Enjoy!**_

_***********************  
The Mourning After  
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_**~ Chapter One ~**_

_**Tainted Love**_

_**Mourning - –noun - 1. the act of a person who mourns; sorrowing or lamentation.**_

_**Hangover - 1 - the disagreeable physical aftereffects of drunkenness, such as a headache or stomach disorder, usually felt several hours after cessation of drinking.**_

_**2. - something remaining behind from a former period or state of affairs.**_

_**Taint - –noun 1. - a trace of something bad, offensive, or harmful.**_

_**2. - a trace of infection, contamination, or the like.**_

_**3. - a trace of dishonor or discredit.**_

_

* * *

_

**Lisa Cuddy picked up the coffee cup sitting on the table in front of her, sipping the bitter brew. She sat it back down, wincing at the sharp taste.**

**It was over. She had moved on, or so she told him.**

**But now, she was regretting those words.**

**She had her family, her new boyfriend. All she needed was the white picket fence and the dog in the front yard to complete the picture. And she had been looking at finding the place with the white picket fence. She was achieving the American Dream, now that she'd achieved all she wanted in her career.**

**She should have been happy, but she was miserable.**

**She sipped the coffee again, the bitter brew washing over the tongue, and she thought back to a conversation she had once had with him.**

**He'd told her, "as the philosopher Jagger once said, 'you can't always get what you want.'"**

**It was a discourse over clinic duty, and she smiled, remember the smug way he had smirked at her, thinking that he had won.**

**But the next day, she had surprised him by playing his game of one-upsmanship, and she had retorted, "'But if you try, sometimes, you get what you need.'"**

**Her smile faded at the memory. She had everything she could have ever wanted.**

**But she still felt empty.**

**She was surprised when Lucas came into the kitchen. He stood behind her, and he leaned down, kissing her softly along her jaw. "Hey babe." He gathered her thick curls, and he moved the swath of hair aside, giving him better access to the soft, smooth skin along her neck. "You weren't in bed," he murmured against the sensitive skin.**

**She assumed she was supposed to become turned on by his actions.**

**But she wasn't.**

"**Sorry," she answered, tilting her head, leaning back into him, because that's what she was supposed to do, ignoring the emptiness. "I'm an early riser.**

"**So am I," he nuzzled her, wrapping his arms around her. "I thought I'd left you exhausted, last night," he teased. He nibbled her ear. "You need the extra stress relief."**

**Rachel's cheerful gurgle came over the baby monitor, giving her an excuse to break free from his embrace. "Aw," he whined. "She'll be fin for a few more moments."**

**She glanced over her shoulder, and she gave him what she thought was a teasing smile. She wiggled her hips in what she hoped was a suggestive way, trying to keep up the facade.**

**She hoped she had him fooled, but the man was too damn smart.**

**She walked into Rachel's room, and she picked up the cheerful girl. She moved her to the changing table, and she went through their morning diaper change ritual, loving the few moments they spent together.**

**She cooed to the little girl, and she didn't hear Lucas come down the hall.**

"**Where do I fit into your life?"**

**He was standing in the doorway, studying her. His blue eyes didn't have the intensity of _his_ laser stare, but he still saw more than she wanted him to see.**

**She laughed, nervously. "What are you talking about?"**

**He shrugged. "Am I what you want? Or what you need?"**

**A sense of deja vu swept over her. "Lucas," she began. He walked over to her, and he ran a finger along her cheek, silencing her.**

"**You're going through the motions." He sighed, sadly. "I know it. You know it. Everybody knows it. And I kind of find it insulting, ya know.**

"**I..." He softly kissed her, cutting her off.**

"**I really liked you, you know," he told her. "I thought we could be something, but I guess I was wrong. I'm packing up my stuff today. I'll be gone by the time you get home from work.**

**He left the room, leaving her with tears streaming down her face, holding on to Rachel.**

**** ** ****

**Greg House's alarm beeped loudly in his ear. Its buzzing dragging him back to the waking world.**

**He wasn't sure if he wanted to be there.**

**His head was throbbing, and his mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. It was a result of him attempting to drink her out of his system, but she was too ingrained. **

**Now, he had to go to work.**

**He rolled over on his back, staring at the ceiling, and he calculated the number of sick days he had, contemplating calling in for a personal day. He wouldn't. Despite feeling like crap, he'd show up to work. Maybe he'd be able to hide in the Clinic for a few hours and take a nap.**

**He groaned at the prospect of Clinic, and he sat up, a wave of nausea washing over him. He wondered at how much he had drank the previous night. He frowned. Not nearly enough. He was still able to feel. **

**He stood up, his body protesting the movement, and he ran a hand through his close cropped hair. He plotted his day, and he hoped that he'd be able to follow through with his plans.**

**A few hours later, he was able to wander down to the Clinic, his fellows shocked that he was voluntarily doing his hours. They didn't realize that after he had seen a few patients, he was planning on napping in one of the exam rooms.**

**He managed to see two patients before his hangover got to him, and he slipped into an empty room. He had bribed the Head Nurse to leave him alone for an hour or so, and he was looking forward to some alone time.**

**The exam room was dark, and he locked the door behind him. He jumped, not expecting the startled gasp coming from somewhere in the room. He flipped on the light, and he was shocked to see Lisa Cuddy sitting on the exam room table. Her face had been buried in her hands, but now, she was looking at him, her mascara streaking down her face with her tears.**

**She looked utterly miserable.**


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N-**_

_**Sorry. I forgot to mention in the A/N in the first chapter...this takes place about 6-8 months after Wilson...**_

_**Sorry 'bout that...**_

_**As always, I own nothing...DS owns House, but I thank him for sharing his toys...**_

_**~ Chapter Two ~**_

_**When All That's Left Is Ashes**_

* * *

"**What the hell are you doing here?" She was startled and emotional, but she did her best to assert herself. She jutted her chin out, and she straightened her shoulders. If there was anything she could do, it was to make sure House wasn't able to mock her in a situation like this.**

**He wanted nothing more than to wipe the tears from her cheeks, but their social contract wouldn't let him get that close. It seemed with her, it was always one step forward and a mile stepped back. He took the snarky route; it was always the safe road. "I have a patient. Last I checked, this was an exam room."**

**She stared at him, then peered around him. "Then where's your patient?" she sniffed.**

"**It's the invisible man," he informed her, acting as serious as possible. "I found a cure for him."**

**She blinked, but didn't say anything. She was pretty sure that her disbelief was etched on her face.**

"**Oh fine, you got me. I'm escaping from Wilson. He just read all those damn Twilight books, and now he thinks he's a vampire." He snorted. "He keeps calling me Bella and keeps telling me he wants to turn me so we can be together forever." He spoke quickly, every word tinged with sarcasm. "You're turn."**

**She didn't answer him right away. I think you're just hiding from Clinic Duty. Finding a nice, quiet place to nap?" She lifted her eyebrows, momentarily putting her personal issues on hold She could never admit it to him, but she was grateful for the distraction.**

"**Moi?" His own eyebrows shot up in disbelief, and he pretended to be offended. "Never! Why, I've been diagnosing little old ladies with cat allergies all morning!" He held a hand to his chest, and he pretended to look hurt. "Why do you always doubt me?"**

**She scoffed, fighting the smile that dared to form on her face. "Because you're usually full of shit." She hopped off the table, tossing her hair back, regaining her composure, and becoming the Alpha Bitch of PPTH once again. "So, if I look at the completed files, I'll find dozens with your signatures?" She called his bluff.**

**He gave her a crooked grin, not letting on that he knew he was metaphorically screwed. "Of course!" She gave him an incredulous look, and she tried to move past him, but he stopped her. "But I wouldn't go out now, if I were you."**

**She tilted her head to one side, and she gave him a wry look. "Why?" she said, skeptical of any reason he might give.**

"**You look like a drowned raccoon," he informed her, steering her towards one of the highly polished stainless steel cabinets. "It's not a mirror, but it'll have to do. As image conscious as you are, you might want to take a look at yourself."**

"**Oh my god," she uttered harshly, blinking at her reflection. It was clear enough for her to take in her puffy, red eyes, and the twin trails of mascara down her cheeks. "I look like hell."**

"**Going through a break up will do that to you," he commented mildly.**

**She froze, then, very slowly, she turned around, and she stared wordlessly at him. Finally, after a few moments of silence, she blinked, and she drew in a deep breath. "How...did you...know," she asked, slowly, her eyes growing even wider.**

**He shrugged. "For you to get this upset about something, one of three thing would have to happen. Something would happen to your rugrat, I'd have said something completely ad totally stupid, offensive and insensitive, or Lucas would've broke up with you." He gauged her response before continuing. "You wouldn't hide if it was Rachel. In fact, you'd probably take a personal week or something to cope. And I've not had a chance to say something stupid an insensitive in days."**

"**Don't forget offensive," she muttered. She was then silent for a moment, pondering his words. She then barked out a harsh, bitter laugh. "Got me all figured out, don't you?"**

**He gave her a weary, crooked grin. "Call 'em like I see 'em. 'Course, I've had twenty years to figure you out."**

**She sighed, and her shoulders slumped a little. He watched her carefully, and her posture registered defeat. He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms, and to reassure her that it would all be okay.**

**But he couldn't do that. Not now. Not yet. And maybe not ever.**

**So, he limped over to the sink, and he wet a cloth, and he handed the wet cloth to her. "You'll have to reapply your make-up when you get back to your office, anyway," he told her. "You should switch to the water proof kind, as hormonal as you are."**

"**I'm not pregnant," she sniffed, accepting the cloth.**

"**I meant menopausal," he shot back, not missing a beat.**

**She gave him a dry look, then washed her face. He smirked a little at her, realizing how much he had missed those little pot shots they could take at each other. She turned warily back towards him, and very softly, with a hint of uncertainty, she told him, "thanks."**

**There were so many things he wanted to tell her, but the words rang hollow in his ears. So he just jerkily nodded. "You're welcome," he said, sincerely, then he left her all alone, with an unspoken promise that he wouldn't say anything about what had happened to her.**

**** ** ****

**A few days later, Wilson came bursting through his office door. "Have you heard?" he demanded, putting his hands on his hips, giving House an expectant look.**

**House was reading a magazine article. His feet were propped up on his desk, and his reading glasses were sitting on the end of his nose. He sipped a cup of coffee, then he looked up at his friend. Who the hell uses words like 'hitherto' and 'therefore' today," he commented, ignoring his friend's question.**

"**Shut up about the damn article!" Wilson chastised him. Then he frowned. "Cuddy and Lucas split up."**

"**God, I hate practicing medicine in high school," he grumbled. He flipped a page in the magazine.**

"**Wwwait a minute." Wilson raised an eyebrow. "This is the woman whom you've been pining after for several years now. You've pursued her, though in a half-ass, self destructive way, for the past two years, and now that she's available, you don't...care?"**

"**She's not available."**

**Wilson blinked at him, staring at him in silence, giving him time to quantify his comment. When House didn't say anything, he finally blurted out, "what?"**

**House shook his head; Wilson could be incredibly dense at times. "She's. Not. Available. She's not over him." He scratched at his beard indifferently. "Besides, she's just not that into me." He gave Wilson a pointed look. "Maybe you should date her?" he offered.**

**Wilson's expression grew puzzled at his deflection. "Are you..afraid...of hurting her?" he asked slowly.**

"**No, you idiot." He sighed, uncomfortable with the situation. He looked away from Wilson for a moment. "I don't want to get hurt. Not again," he admitted reluctantly. "Besides," he muttered, "she needs to be with her friends now. And I'm not one of 'em."**

**Wilson bit his lip, and he nodded. "Right," he commented skeptically. "You used to ****be." He left the office, leaving House alone with his thoughts.**


	3. Chapter 3

**_A/N -_**

**_For the purposes of this fic, I'm assuming that Cuddy's father died during House's stay in Mayfield (it was alluded to in the last episode). Since we don't know exactly when, that's where I'm taking it._**

**_Thanks! And as always, DS owns House, but I thank him for sharing his toys!  
_**

_**~ Chapter Three ~**_

_**Goin' Through The Motions...**_

**For the next several weeks, he kept his distance.**

**He watched her from afar, and he began to grow concerned.**

**She had thrown herself into her work, which didn't surprise him. She was a workaholic by nature, but she was spending more and more time in the office, often having her babysitter bring her Rachel after five. She obviously cared for the little girl, and she didn't want to miss spending time with her, but one thing grew even more obvious to House, the longer he observed her.**

**She didn't want to go home to an empty house.**

**He continued to watch, growing even more worried as he watched the physical toll that her break-up had taken on her.**

**Her normally expressive eyes had become dull. There were now ever deeper, dark circles around her eyes. She covered them with ever increasing amounts of make-up, but he still saw them. **

**She wasn't sleeping, and he picked up on the tell-tale signs.**

**She'd also lost some weight. Not a lot, but enough that he noticed. She was thin framed anyway, despite her curves and assets, but now, he noticed how thin she was really becoming. Her bones were more prominent, especially her cheekbones.**

**It was obvious to him that she wasn't taking this latest break-up very well.**

**Unfortunately, it seemed like only he and Wilson noticed. She had put on such a brave face at the hospital, going on as business as usual. She was so convincing that most people didn't know that it was eating at her.**

**But then again, he wasn't most people.**

**She had failed again, and he knew that it was one of her weak spots. A hole in the wall she surrounded herself with. A chink in the calm, cool exterior armor she wore.**

**And he had seen right through that wall.**

**** ** ** ** ****

**She found herself smiling so much that her jaw hurt. It was all a ruse designed to keep prying questions at bay. She had a hard enough time keeping people at the hospital from interfering in her personal life. Well, two people in particular, so she figured that a cheerful attitude kept most people at arms length from the truth.**

**She refused to wallow in self pity, either, so the happy facade kept her from tormenting herself, as well, but something about this situation had to hit to the heart of her. Insomnia had become a part of her life, and sleeping and anti-anxiety pills hadn't helped. In fact, they had made it worse. She'd completely lost her appetite. She loved good food, but now she only ate at a necessity, picking at her favorites.**

**She wondered if it had affected her so because it happened so close to the heels of her father's death, and not so long after the stress of House's break down. She couldn't help but think it was too much too soon.**

**Wilson, of course, had picked up on her misery quickly. The man had a radar for grief, but after she thwarted one attempt of his to talk about what had happened, she kept their conversations brief and concise, but that didn't stop him from giving her worried looks, or attempting to talk to her about it. He even slipped a number for a private psychiatrist under her office door. After that, she made a concentrated effort to show no sign of weakness, and she was pretty sure she had the rest of the staff fooled.**

**Except for one man, but he never missed much.**

**She'd seen him watching her from afar. He'd always been out of the way, and, for someone who stood out from the crowd as much as he did, he was surprisingly able to blend into the background. In fact, if she hadn't been looking for him, she'd have never seen him.**

**She noticed the ever growing concern that was etching itself on his face. Try as he might to hide his feelings, they often blazed from his weather worn features and icy blue eyes. He didn't need to worry; she was fine.**

**At least that's what she told herself.**

**She went on about her professional life as if nothing had ever happened, but she was dying inside. She was just too stubborn to admit it to herself.**

**** ** ** ** ****

**His feet were up on their coffee table, and he was eating Ben and Jerry's Americone Dream ice cream right out of the carton. He was looking at the T.V., but he wasn't watching it. His mind was else where, dwelling on her. He didn't even hear Wilson come in until he heard his roommate snort behind him, "You're pathetic."**

**He turned his head, and he watched as Wilson dropped his briefcase on the floor and slip off his raincoat. House forgot about the ice cream on the spoon that was halfway to his mouth. The glob slipped off, and it landed in his lap with a soft splat. "Goddamn it, Wilson," he exclaimed, standing up and wiping the offending lump from his crotch. "You made me waste my ice cream. Now, this better be good!" He moved to the kitchen, putting the carton back in the freezer.**

"**Talk to her!" Wilson pleaded, following him into the kitchen. "She needs to know she's not alone in this!"**

**House rolled his eyes. "You made me drop my ice cream for this? Seriously?"**

**It was Wilson's turn to roll his eyes. "She needs to talk to someone. This break up has hit her hard."**

**House quickly lost his temper, and he slammed his hand down on the kitchen counter, causing it to echo through the room. "Why the fuck do I need to talk to her!" He drew in a deep breath, trying to calm down. "Why the hell can't you talk to her. You do this empathy shit much better than I can," he grumbled, sneering at his friend.**

**Wilson's face drooped. "It didn't work," he mumbled.**

"**Seriously?" House grabbed a beer out of the fridge. He tossed it to Wilson, and he took another one out for himself. **

**Wilson nodded morosely. He popped the top on his beer, and he took a drink, making a face. "Yeah. Now she won't talk to me about anything but hospital business.**

"**God, you're an idiot!" House exploded. "Have I taught you noting about cunning and sneakiness?" He rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand.**

"**Only how to use it against you," Wilson responded, dryly. "Will you talk to her?" he asked, pointedly.**

**House shook his head. "I don't think she'd listen to me," he said, honestly. He opened his own beer, taking a deep drink.**

"**You're a stubborn ass," Wilson muttered, irritated.**

"**Because I won't do what you want me to?" House snorted in reply, his nerves raw.**

**Wilson shook his head, suddenly tired. "Because you won't help a friend."**

**Wilson words struck home, and House narrowed his eyes in anger. "Fine," he bit out, ad he limped out into the living room. He grabbed his leather coat, helmet, and keys, picked up his cane, and he left, without another word.**


	4. Chapter 4

**~ Chapter Four ~**

**Failure**

* * *

**He didn't go to directly to her place.**

**He wandered down the rain slick streets of Princeton. The gray clouds that hung low from overhead threatened rain, but it held off. He too, was trying to postpone the inevitable. **

**He knew that Wilson was right; he needed to talk to her. If anyone was an expert on downward spirals, it was him, but he couldn't bring himself to go to her home. His stubborn streak just wouldn't allow him to do the easy thing, even though he knew it was the right thing. He had to mull over every possible outcome, and the consequences. He had to work up every ounce of his courage to go and do it.**

**He had to admit, mulling things over on his bike allowed him the privacy to do that. There was nobody on the road with him, just the sound of winding road under his tires**

**It allowed him to clear his head, and to figure out just what he needed to do.**

**So it was late when he finally pulled in front of her house. The skies that had threatened his ride all late afternoon and evening finally opened up on the way to her house. If he believed in them, he would have thought it an ill omen.**

**He limped as fast as his leg would let him to her door, becoming saturated in the process. He shook his head as he ducked onto her porch, feeling the water run down his face. He licked his lips, tasting the rain on his tongue. **

**He hated wet weather.**

**Those were his thoughts as he stared at the front door of her house. He bit his lip, not wanting to knock. Knocking would lead to a conversation, and that was something he had been avoiding like Clinic Duty. It was such a simple task, knocking on the door, but his hands felt like the bones had been replaced with lead weights.**

**The, the image of her sitting on the exam room table, so lost and upset, with tears in her eyes filled his mind. It was quickly replaced with the images of her that had haunted him, recently; the dark circles under her eyes, the far-away, completely devastated look she would get when she thought no one else was around. As he thought about her, the task suddenly became easier.**

**** ** ** ** ****

**She sat on her plush sofa, a mug of steaming hot tea was warming her hands. The television was off, and soft, sad jazz floated through the room. A pile of papers were stacked on the low table in front of her, begging her to go through them. She wanted desperately to take them up on that offer, to escape her misery through work.**

**But she hadn't been able to.**

**She told herself that she was being foolish, that she should be able to get herself out of this funk. She sipped her tea, the only thing she'd been able to stomach lately. Initially, she had worried that her lack of appetite and emotional state may have been a sign that she may have been pregnant, but the blood test had come negative, and her period had arrived right on time. Now she was wondering if she should take Wilson's hint to see a shrink, but her stubborn pride wouldn't allow her to.**

**She had to get through this on her own.**

**While she was musing about her situation, a loud knock from the front door echoed through her home. She nearly dropped her mug; she knew that knock. It wasn't as harsh or impatient as it usually was, but it was the clear thud that was made by wood rapping hard on wood.**

**Her stomach dropped. She didn't want to see him, not here, in this personal and private setting. The hospital was neutral ground, in a way. It was a place where she could hide herself under a professional veneer. A place she could escape to when her private life became to much.**

**She found herself fighting a bitter laugh. It used to be the other way around.**

**He knocked again, louder and more urgent this time. She sighed. She knew she should answer it, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it.**

**She didn't have to.**

**He tested the handle, and the door opened. She recognized his distinctive gait as he limped down the foyer, into the living room. The sound of his cane striking the floor echoed through the room, and her heart began beating rapidly. She tightened her grip on the coffee cup, and she bit her lip, preparing herself for the worst.**

"**Taking this rather hard, aren't you?" He didn't sit down, and he couldn't look at her as he entered the room. She sat on the couch, and he focused on objects around the room, not wanting to meet her eyes, to see her misery.**

**He didn't sit down, either. He felt out of place, like a wolf entering a rival's den. This was her sanctuary, her place of comfort, and he was invading it. He was an uninvited guest here, and he felt it.**

**She didn't say anything. She was tired of fighting, tired of trying so hard to achieve all her dreams, in both her professional and personal life, only to fail in one, and, despite all her efforts, to succeed but be called a bitch whenever she stood up for something in the other.**

"**Cuddy." He interrupted her thoughts. She felt the weight he put on the word. Names had a type of power, and he put more force in to her's than usual. He wanted her to react, to do something, to yell at him, to slap him. To do something other than look so defeated, but she didn't even look up at him.**

**He took a deep breath, and he walked over to her. He placed his large, calloused hand on her shoulder, hoping she'd react to his physical touch. "I'm..." The words stuck in his throat. He swallowed, his mouth dry. "I'm sorry," he whispered.**

**She felt the warmth of his hand laying heavily on her shoulder. She craned her neck around, looking at him for the first time, not knowing what to say, fearing that he'd just answer her with a deflection. She took in his wet clothing and the water dripping from his close cropped hair and craggy face. **

**He gave her a small half-smile, mistaking her look for that of disbelief. "Sorry, it slips out. I'll go back to being an ass now." He removed his hand from her shoulder, and he moved around, sitting down next to her on the couch. He looked at her, taking in her oversized sweatshirt and worn jeans, thinking that she looked beautiful, but it wasn't the right time to tell her that. "You're not a failure, you know."**

**She inhaled sharply, then looked at him. "You're ruining my couch."**

"**It's just water, your couch will be fine," he chided her. He softened his voice a little. "And so will you." At her look of disbelief, he added, "trust me, I'm an expert on surviving failures." **

**She felt her lip quiver, but she bit it, determined not to cry, not in front of him. "I'm forty-two," she choked out, harshly, "and I've never had a lasting relationship."**

**He was silent for a few moments. The soft approach hadn't worked, and he became annoyed at her self-pity. His stopped fighting his self-control, and he opened his mouth. "Oh, boo-hoo," he rolled his eyes. "You're the fucking Dean of Medicine of the largest hospital in Princeton. You're also a new mother, who's doing a great job, besides the fact you cheated to get your kid." She gave him a dirty look, but he continued before she could retort. "Do what everyone else in your situation does; buy a vibrator or buy a boyfriend. Preferably the latter. Wilson accepts credit cards."**

**She felt her anger rise. He knew she was going to erupt, but he stood his ground, keeping his unwavering gaze on her, daring her to react. "You son of a bitch," she hissed, rising. "Get the fuck out of my house."**

**He stood up slowly, using his cane as leverage, and he gave her one last, long look. "You know I'm right. The ball's in your court now. Don't drop it."**

**It wasn't until she heard the door slam shut that she realized she was holding in her breath. She exhaled, then she slumped back down to the couch, letting the tears fall freely.**


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N -**_

_**Thanks for reading this! I hope you liked it! :-)**_

_**You readers are why we do this!! We never fail to appreciate your presence :-) **_

_**Thanks again!!!**_

_**~ImNC aka Amanda  
**_

_**~ Chapter Five ~**_

_**What Happens Next**_

_

* * *

_

**Cuddy was awake. She'd felt like she had been sleep walking for the past few months, and that she had finally woken up.**

**She hadn't responded to his words right away. It had taken them a while to sink in, but eventually, they did.**

**They had avoided each other for the few weeks after his visit to her house. It was a mutual, though unspoken, decision. He did most of his Clinic hours, and he rarely burst into her office. Usually, he had shown up only when the most drastic of measures were needed. Their arguments, now so very rare, were subdued, lacking the fire that they used to have. He kept things dry and professional.**

**It was after one such meeting that she realized what he was doing. He'd been treating her the way she'd been acting since Lucas had come in the picture. She drove home that night, her mind retracing her interactions with him since he'd found out that they had been a couple. His words began to echo in her mind.**

**Then it dawned on her. **

**He'd apologized! Underneath her blanket of self pity, she had missed it. She blinked back her tears, she realized that she'd missed so much since he was released from Mayfield. She'd been so caught up in her life with Lucas, she'd missed the subtle changes in him.**

**But, she mused, she'd deliberately done her best to wall up her feelings about him. It was purely a defense mechanism; one she had put up so long ago. She'd let it slip in the past year, and she had paid the price. After she had been hurt, again, she'd vowed never again. **

**To be honest, she'd not believed that he was capable of that much change. She still wasn't sure, but something told her that this time might be different.**

**She braked, flicking on her turn signal, and she turned her car around in a nearby parking lot.**

**She finally had something to say to him.**

* * *

**House was stretched out on his couch, dozing. His eyes were closed, and his feet were propped up on their new coffee table. His hands were folded across his belly, holding a book to his belly. His snores filled the room.**

**A loud knock at the door roused him from his nap, and he woke with a start, causing the book to clatter to the door. The knocking continued, and it took a few moments for him to orientate himself. He passed his hand over his face, his heart thrumming with the surprise of being woken up so abruptly.**

**When he was finally awake enough to realize that there was someone at the door, he hopped up to answer it.**

**Late night knocks on doors were never a good day, he had come to think. He thought it was probably a team member trying to get him to work, Cuddy trying to get him to work, or Wilson having lost his keys, again. It was never a super hot college girl working her way through school by delivering free pizzas in a thong bikini.**

**So, when he opened the door, all he could say was, "why can't you do your job in a bikini? I bet you'd have no problem getting Board approval by flashing your assets."**

**Cuddy was a little taken aback by his greeting. "I'll get right on that," she responded, dryly. He blocked the door way, leaning on the frame, giving her a very long, examining look. She started to feel very uncomfortable. "Can I come in?"**

**He tilted his head to one side, ignoring her question. "Why are you here?"**

**She bit her lip, her mouth suddenly dry. She want to speak, to tell him, but, like so many other times before, words failed her.**

"**You know," he became impatient by her silence, "I'm missing The Girls Next Door," he informed her, impatiently. "Spit it out, or go..."**

**He was cut off by her suddenly rising up on her toes, snaking a hand behind his neck. She drew his face down to hers, and she covered his lips with hers. His mind momentarily went blank.**

**As quickly as she initiated the kiss, she broke it off, taking a quick step back. He inhaled sharply, missing the warmth of her mouth on his. He slowly opened his eyes, and when he got his voice back, all he could say was, "that...was WAY better than The Girls Next Door."**

**A nervous giggle slipped between her lips. "I should hope so." Then her face grew somber. "Thank-you." She gave him a slight, nervous smile.**

**He tilted his head to one side, examining her. "I knew you'd come around." He turned back inside, and she followed him, taking in the loft as she entered.**

"**Are you always that sure of yourself," she asked, following him into the kitchen, demanding an answer.**

"**No point in thinking any other way." She opened her mouth to question him further, but he answered before she could get it out. "Cuddy," he began, opening up a beer, "You're smart, you're determined, and you don't let anyone get in your way. You're not going to let a little thing like a break-up stop you for too long." His lips twitched up in a slight smirk, and he took a quick drink from the bottle. "You just needed a wake-up call."**

**Before she could respond, he covered the short distance between them, and he covered her lips with his, pulling her close to him. A moment later, he stepped away, leaving her breathless.**

**When she could finally speak, she gave him a long look, his teasing smirk making her heart skip. "So," she began, wryly, "what's next?"**

**He shrugged, and his smirk widened. "Life," he said, simply, with a hint of sarcasm. "The good, the bad, and, in your case, the ugly."**

"**Keep up with that kind of charm, and I'll never kiss you again."**

"**Wanna make a bet?"**

**~ the end ~**


End file.
